Ocean Thieves
by beep-beep0
Summary: My name is Andromeda Jackson. I'm twelve years old. Until a few months ago, I was a boarding student at Yancy Academy along with my twin, Percy. Our strange lives only grew stranger when our father made a reappearance in our lives. This is our story. We swear we weren't having a joint acid trip. [twin sister au, percabeth, badass powers and sass] [cross posted on wattpad]
1. one - demon math teachers

**_I do not own Percy Jackson. I only own my OCs and their storylines. I am open to helpful criticism, but please know that I am young so this isn't going to be the best. _**_**Thank you for reading! Feedback is very much appreciated. I don't have a schedule for updating yet but I will try to update regularly. -**_**lies **

* * *

**ONE**

Look, we didn't want to be half-bloods. If you're reading this because you think you're one of us, my advice to you is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lies your parents shoved down your throat about your birth and live a normal life.

Why? Because being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. And ninety percent of the time you die an early death at the hands of a myth.

If you're a normal kid, reading this out of sheer boredom and are convinced this is fiction, cheers. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe none of this ever happened.

But if you recognize yourself in these pages—if you feel something stirring inside—stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come for you.

Don't say we didn't warn you.

My name is Andromeda Jackson. I'm twelve years old. Until a few months ago, I was a boarding student at Yancy Academy along with my twin, Percy.

Are we troubled kids?

I pretty much _define '_troubled kid'.

In the fifth-grade, my brother and I went to a Saratoga battlefield and exploded the school bus with a Revolutionary War-era cannon. "In our defense, we were left unsupervised," I'd said. But _apparently _purposefully losing the chaperone and sneaking around the guards by the cannon didn't count as being left unsupervised. We were expelled upon our arrival at the school and sent packing to our cramped apartment on the East Side.

My personal favorite, however, is when Percy "accidentally" pulled the wrong lever and dumped the whole class into a shark tank. It was possibly one of my best memories of school.

However, Percy had begged me to be on my best behavior for this trip. And I, being the amazing sister that I am, agreed to be on my _bestest _behavior. The reason for his insistence on good behavior? The trip was being led by our favorite teacher, Mr. Brunner. He was this middle-aged guy in a wheelchair that always smelled like coffee. With his scruffy beard, frayed tweed jacket, and his epic collection of armor, he kept me interested.

His class was the only one that didn't make me want to bang my head on the desk repeatedly. I'd always enjoyed learning about the arts so hopefully, the trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art would go smoothly and we would revel in our appreciation of viewing Ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

However, if the redheaded, cheeto-faced, kleptomaniac girl named Nancy Bobofit didn't stop hitting my best friend, Grover, in the head with her sandwich. I would be adding first-degree murder to my record. It would be a painful death, too. She'd been picking on him since the day he enrolled. Unfortunately, I understood why someone like Bobofit was picking on Grover. He has probably been held back a couple of grades (I'm guessing because of his wispy goatee and acne). He was scrawny. He cried when frustrated. _And _he was crippled. Bobofit was just a class A bitch whose parents didn't love her enough and felt the need to inflict her prepubescent angst upon the "lesser" people in and below the sixth-grade.

Neither Percy nor I could do a thing about Nancy throwing peanut-butter and ketchup sandwich wads into Grover's curly brown hair. This being because if anything went wrong, and I mean _anything_, Percy and I would be tortured with ISS.

"I'm going to kill her," my brother mumbled. I squeezed his left hand with my right in an attempt to placate him.

"As much as I would love to see _that_ fight, you can't. We're kind of running low on options as far as education goes."

"I know but-"

"It's okay. I like peanut butter," Grover plucked a mangled piece of bread out of his hair.

"So do I!" I exclaimed. "But not in my hair! Or with ketchup." I wrinkled my nose and Grove dodged another piece of Nancy's lunch.

"That's it," Percy pushed off his seat. Both Grover and I grabbed his arms and yanked him back into the uncomfortable school bus seat.

"You guys are already on probation," Grover reminded Percy. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

Percy huffed in defeat before turning to me, "Are we almost there?" I scowled at him.

* * *

I examined the huge echoing galleries, marble busts, and statues, and black and orange pottery in glass cases in authentic interest, listening raptly to whatever history or myth explained its creation.

We gathered at the base of a huge stone column with a sphynx on it. He explained that it was a stele for a girl that had been around our age. It sounded interesting but, alas, Nancy and her gaggle of friends would not be quiet.

Percy and I would tell them to shut up, then immediately receive the evil eye from Mrs. Dodds. Fun fact about Mrs. Dodds; She was spawned in the pits of hell. She was the meanest Southern math teacher from Georgia I had ever had.

Upon her arrival, Mrs. Dodds hailed Nancy Bobofit as an angel from Heaven and me and my brother as spawns of Lucifer. I'd once told her she had it mixed up with me and herself. Okay, maybe more than once. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," with her voice dipped in honey, and I knew that I would be frequenting after-school detention for a month. (It was still worth it.)

Though since I'm on probation (and have been for almost a month), I've been _trying _to avoid trouble for a while. It was rather hard. There were _so many_ golden opportunities that I had to sadly watch pass.

Mr. Brunner continued to talk about Greek art, oblivious to Nancy sniggering with her friends about a naked statue. I was tempted to throttle her but I'm 80% sure that's considered a _bad _thing to do to people.

"Will you shut up?" _Percy!_ Mr. Brunner stopped his story. Percy's face turned beet red. _Bet that came out louder than he meant it to._

"Mr. Jackson," he said. "Do you have a comment?"

"No, sir." His face was so red now it was almost funny.

"Sir, he was trying to quiet down some of the other students who were acting immaturely so he could listen to your lesson." I finished with an apologetic smile. "He didn't mean for it to be so loud."

Percy looked at me gratefully. I smirked at him, my 'I got your back, bro' face showing. Pros of having a twin, they could tell exactly what you meant with minimal communication. Cons are that you spent an entire day coming up with a secret language that only the two of you would understand.

Mr. Brunner stroked his beard thoughtfully, "Perhaps you could tell the class what this picture represents?" He pointed to one of the pictures on the stele that depicted Kronos's A+ parenting.

"That's Kronos eating his kids, right?" Point for Team Jackson!

"Yes," Mr. Brunner said, not satisfied with the answer. "And he did this because..."

"Well..." he paused. "Kronos was the king god-" I kicked the back of his shin. "King Titan," he corrected. "And he didn't trust his kids who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his siblings-"

"Ew!" cried one of the girls behind us.

"-and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," he continued blatantly ignoring her. "And the gods won." _Well in a nutshell I suppose._

Behind us, Nancy Bobofit mumbled, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please why Kronos ate his kids'." I questioned what I had done in my previous life to deserve her ceaseless chatter.

"And why, Ms. Jackson," Mr. Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover muttered.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face bright red.

I thought about his question and said, "It symbolizes that there will always be some to come after you, and trying to hold onto an empire while you should clearly hand over the torch will just bring your downfall faster. Because, in the end, everything dies so it is meaningless to hold onto what has already been taken away." I considered adding 'Or it just means don't eat your kids', but he looked pleased with my answer. I wasn't about to ruin that.

Mr. Brunner nodded, "Nicely put, Ms. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his father's scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifted outside, girls complaining of hunger, guys acting liking idiots. But not my merry crew, no! Grover and I were waiting for Percy at the fountain trying to maintain a decent distance between us and the school for rich reject freaks.

Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snowstorms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.

Nobody else noticed the strange weather. Guys continued to pelt pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket some random lady, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing a thing.

Percy sat on the fountain between Grover and me, sighing.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," he responded. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I'm not a genius."

I faked a gasp, "What do you mean? You're the child protege he's searched for for years!" He snorted,_ mission accomplished _I cheered mentally_._

"Thanks, Andy," Percy smiled at me.

Eyeing Bobofit's failed attempts at stealing I bumped Percy's shoulder with mine, "Bet you a dollar I can pick-pocket a tourist before Nancy does." He gave me a disapproving look.

"As your older brother-"

"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE _TWELVE_ MINUTES OLDER!"

He laughed and sang in an airy voice, "I'm still older than you ." I shoved him jokingly. He chuckled again and handed me my sandwich which I quickly unwrapped. I was about to take a bite when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of my merry crew. She was probably tired of stealing from tourists so she went to her second favorite past-time- picking on the three losers at the fountain.

She dumped her half-eaten lunch on Grover's lap. A disgustingly saliva drenched apple core rolled off of his lap and into the fountain with a plop. My nose wrinkled on reflex at the sight. Though if you asked me, I wasn't sure if it was at the sight of the half-eaten food or Nancy.

"You know Nancy sweetie, there are starving children that could have eaten that food." I looked up at her with mock-sadness. "And you just throw it away like that," I shook my head and tsked.

"What? Children like you and your idiot brother?" That seemed to be the last straw for Percy. The water around us surged. I never saw Percy move but the next thing I knew, Nancy was sitting in the fountain screaming that Percy had pushed her.

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"  
"—the water—"  
"—it's like it grabbed her—"

It took me a couple of seconds to register that Mrs. Dodds had materialized out of the ground like the overgrown demon bat she was. She had a triumphant fire in her eyes as if Percy had done something worth being expelled for. "Now, honey-"

"I know, a month erasing workbooks," he grumbled. I, not for the first time, actually wanted to facepalm myself into oblivion. You _never _guess your punishment. It will always be worse if you do.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said.

"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. I pushed her."

I stared at him, stunned. I couldn't believe he was trying to cover for my brother. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death.

She glared at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she said.

"But—"

"You—will—stay—here."

Grover looked at me desperately. "Ma'am, I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding. I was sat beside Percy the entire time. He didn't push her in."

She looked me up and down, "Perfect, then you'll come too." My face twitched from the peace-making, teacher loving, the respectful mask I had donned. _Well, that tanked._

I smiled gratefully at Grover, "Thanks for trying, Grove." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Percy glaring at Nancy Bobofit with his 'deluxe I'll-kill-you-later' glare. I snorted and turned to face Mrs. Dodds, except she was no longer there.

Somehow, she stood at the museum entrance, gesturing impatiently for us to hurry up the tall stairs. My brain did a double-take. How did she get there so fast? My brain occasionally did that, falling asleep and waking up, only to find a mysterious chunk of time had been lost forever.

I shrugged it off and made my way up the stairs, not checking to see if Percy followed. I raced to catch up with Mrs. Dodds, but she had already made it to the entrance hall. Okay, so we would just have to buy Nancy a new shirt at the gift shop. I'd have to scrounge up some money, but it wouldn't be too bad.

My brow furrowed as we walked past the gift shop and continued further into the museum until we came across the room the stele was been in. The room was suspiciously empty now. Mrs. Dodds stopped in front of a huge frieze of the Greek gods. She almost sounded like she was growling. I couldn't explain it, but I had a bad feeling about this.

"You two have been giving us problems, honey," she said.

I kept my calm (but confused) facade up. "I'm sorry ma'am, but neither of us knows what you're talking about." I glanced back at Percy to see if he knew anything about what was happening, but he looked even more confused than I did.

"Did you really think you'd get away with it?" She snarled.

The look in her eyes was beyond angry. It was evil. Percy gripped my hand and stepped in front of me. "I'll try harder ma'am," he responded shakily. Once again, he had said the wrong thing. Thunder shook the building. Percy pressed his body into mine. I hated cowering behind him, but for the moment I was glad he was offering protection from whatever Mrs. Dodds was talking about.

"We are not fools, Perseus and Andromeda Jackson, " Mrs. Dodds snarled. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain." _What the fuck is happening? _I squeezed Percy's hand and all I could think was that the teachers had discovered I'd faked both of our Tom Sawyer essays. Or maybe they realized Percy had been selling candy of his dorm room. Neither of those reasons, however, explained the animalistic way our teacher was eyeing us.

"Your time is up, " she hissed. If I thought she was demonic _before, _what came next confirmed my suspicions that she was literally straight from hell. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice us up into confetti. Fleshy, bloody confetti.

Somehow, things got even weirder. Mr. Brunner, who I could've sworn was at the front of the museum only a minute ago, wheeled his chair into the place of our death, holding a pen.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouted and tossed the pen through the air. Mrs. Dodds lunged at Percy, desperate to kill him before he caught the pen. Except when my brother grabbed the pen it was a three-foot sword. The same one that Mr. Brunner used on tournament day. My brain short-circuited. The demon bat talon's slashed at the air where I'd stood. I froze, surprised at my quick reflexes. She growled and swiped at me but hit the empty air again.

Mrs. Dodds twisted towards us with a murderous look in her eyes. I scrambled to my feet, almost slipping in my haste to getaway. My legs wanted to give out but I held my ground beside my brother. I curled my fists, though let Percy take charge due to him being the one with the sword. He looked like he was about to drop the sword because of how scared he was.

She snarled, "Die honey!" And flew right at us. Percy swung the sword as if he'd been training with it his entire life. The blade ran through her shoulder and body as if it was warm butter. _Hiss! _Where Mrs. Dodds had once been was a solid pound of golden sand. She had vaporized at first contact with the strange sword. Leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching us even after death.

We were alone. Percy no longer had a sword in hand, but a ballpoint pen. Mr. Bruner wasn't there. I shook for a second before flinging my trembling body into my older brother's arms.

"Did that happen?" I whispered against his shirt. Percy looked unsure of what was real and what was fiction. He nodded slowly.

"Maybe our lunches were infected with magic shrooms."

"And we had a joint hallucination?"

"Twin powers. They're truly powerful."

I snorted shakily, "Well, it must have been your imagination cause mine ain't that wacky." I stood. "It also may have caused me nightmares for weeks, I'm never looking at Mrs. Dodds the same way."

"I forgot she would still be there," he shivered. "Can we agree to never tell a soul about our joint acid trip?" I nodded soberly. We stood and dusted off the (maybe not so) imaginary dust. I started walked slowly as if trying to lengthen the time spent away from Mrs. Dodds. Percy stared at the pen in his hands once more before racing after me.

It had started to rain outside. Grover was sitting by the fountain where we had left him with a map over his head. Nancy Bobofit stood there, soaking and grumbling.

"I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your asses," she said upon seeing us.

I could feel Percy was about to ask _'Who?' _but quickly jabbed him in the small of his back and pulled my infamous troublemaker face.

"It wasn't too bad. Just a polite scolding really." I stared at Percy, hoping his brain was functioning again and had caught on. Thankfully, he had. Shrugging nonchalantly he sat next to Grover and continued to eat his lunch. Nancy's eye twitched. It was a glorious moment where I ruled over cheeto-face. I resumed my place on Grover's other side and joined in their enlightening conversation as to whether or not it was socially acceptable to sing randomly.

Percy waited for Nancy to clear the area before he sprang on Grover. _Smart boy. _When Percy asked where Mrs. Dodds was, Grover answered no but his hesitation gave his lie away.

I rolled my eyes, "C'mon Grover, I know we weren't all having mass-hallucinations about a teacher." He glanced at me fearfully but said nothing and focused on not getting wet. Thunder boomed overhead again. I huffed impatiently, "Fine, be like that."

Percy walked to Mr. Brunner's motorized cafe table and began to talk to him. _There_, I thought triumphantly. _Now we'll finally get to the truth. _Or so I thought. My thoughts fizzled and died when I saw Percy slump and hand back the pen. My brow furrowed in confusion but quickly put the pieces together.

I rushed up to Percy. "He doesn't know her either?" He shook his head in response. "O-okay," my brain raced to figure out what was happening. "For now, let's just go with it," his expression looked pained. "We've never heard of a Mrs. Dodds, Mrs. Kerr is our teacher. Got it?"

"Got it."


	2. two - cheers to creepy grandmas

_**Sorry for the wait. Here's chapter two! A reminder that ****I do not own Percy Jackson. I only own my OCs and their storylines. I am open to helpful criticism, but please know that I am young so this isn't going to be the best. ****_Thank you for reading! Feedback is very much appreciated._ **_

**TWO**

It seemed as if the entire school was pulling some twisted practical joke on me and Percy. Except, that couldn't be because a) the entire school was in on it b) the teachers had no clue who Mrs. Dodds was and c) there _was_ a Mrs. Kerr. No one would put that much effort into a practical joke on two nobodies- especially for five months and Mrs. Kerr too nice to pull this sort of trick on two students.

Every once in awhile Percy would spring a Mrs. Dodds reference, to see if he would trip them up, but they would just look at him like he'd confessed to shoving hamsters up his butt. By the time finals rolled around, I could tell he had almost started believing that Mrs. Dodds had never existed. _Almost_. I had no such problems due to Grover being such a shit liar. What confused me was that though the school had no record of Mrs. Dodds, Mr. Brunner and Grover would get shifty every time I mentioned her.

In my mind, there was no doubt that Mrs. Dodds had existed. Every night, I would get visions of her true demon bat form and wake up in a cold sweat. It happened so often that my roommate started to get worried about me.

The freak weather continued, which didn't help my mood. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.

It was as if my mood was affected by the weather. I was cranky and bitchy all the time (though I hid it behind a "Sorry, I'm tired" mask) and my grades started to slip. I was proud of my grades, even if they were just Bs and Cs. As someone that was both dyslexic _and _had ADHD, they were pretty high.

Percy got into more fights and I was sent out of almost every class for behavior issues. The last straw, however, had been when our English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked why I, a dyslexic kid, was doing so horrible on my spelling tests. Percy called him an old sot. I flipped him off. It was a fun experience.

The principal sent a letter to our mother the following week, confirming what we already knew: We would not be coming back next year. I was completely okay with this. I hated this school. It was full of stuck up snobs that got under my skin. Besides, I missed my mom. I didn't care if I had to go to a public school and deal with Smelly Gabe the Pervert and his poker parties.

I tried to find my inner zen. Trying to study for all my finals wasn't exactly a relaxing experience, though -mostly due to my brilliant combination of ADHD and dyslexia. I tried getting help once, but the tutors seemed to think me a waste of their time and skills as soon as they realized exactly _how _hard it was for me.

I let out a groan of frustration as the words did laps around the page, taunting me with the forbidden knowledge they held. I fell back into the bed, complicit with laying there. My eyes drifted towards my roommate's bed, reassuring that I hadn't woken the girl up. Piper's light snore answered my question.

Piper McLean was one of the few people I got along with at Yancy. She wasn't quite Grover-tier, but she was right below him. She'd even got a bit teary-eyed when I told her I wasn't coming back. A true friend. One that would forget about me in a couple of months, but still, a true friend right now.

I pulled off my socks and slipped beneath my sheets. I snuggled into the warm blankets and let peace wash over me.

Unfortunately, my dreams had other ideas. I was walking down the hallway, coming to a stop in front of Mr. Brunner's door. It was cracked open and the light was spilling into the hallway. My dream-self's footsteps echoed in the empty passage. My hand reached out for the handle, only, it wasn't my hand. It took me a few seconds to realize what was wrong with it. The nails had been chewed on.

One thing that I will admit with little reluctance is that I cared very much about my appearance. I wasn't the type to put on enough makeup to reach clown hood, but I wore light makeup and washed my skin with whatever I could every night. This "vanity" (words of the nun from third grade) extended to my hands. My nails were neatly trimmed and hands moisturized often. _Andy Jackson _did not bite her nails and have dry hands. Her older brother _did_.

I hesitated from writing it off as freaky twin stuff. My gut was squirming in distress, warning me that this wasn't some wacky dream.

I was _dreaming _in my brother's body. My heart raced. Surely it was just a coincidence. Just a weird dream my mind had made up because of stress. There was no possible way that Percy was actually up and about, and about to open Mr. Brunner's door. No. I refuse. Nope. Nothing weird. Nopety nope.

Dream Grover's voice broke me from my reverie of noping, "I'm worried about the twins sir."

Percy's dream-body inched closer.

"They'll be alone this summer," Grover continued. "I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too-"

"We would only make matters worse by rushing them," Mr. Brunner said. "We need the Jacksons to mature more."

"But they may not have time. The summer solstice dead-line- "

The what?

"Will have to be resolved without those two, Grover. Let them enjoy their ignorance while they still can."

"Sir, they both saw her... ."

"Their imagination," Mr. Brunner's voice insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince them of that."

"Sir, I ... I can't fail in my duties again." Grover choked. "You know what that would mean."

What duties?

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy and Andy alive until next fall-"

_What?_

The book the Percy-copy-dream-thingy was holding fell to the floor. _Shit! _My heart thudded in my chest. Dream Percy picked up the Greek Mythology book from the floor and backed down the hall.

My heart raced, creating a marching band with the blood rushing past my ears. I was dreaming. Why was I so worried about being caught?

I slipped inside the nearest empty closet and held my breath, waiting for the weird part of the dream to begin. Maybe Mr. Brunner would come strutting out America's Next Top Model style or Grover with shag carpet pants. Maybe we'd all do the macarena together. Nonesuch things happened.

Instead, a clop-clop-clop sound passed by the door. A dark shadow paused in front of the glass, then moved further down the hallway. My dream continued to be hyper-realistic by adding the sensation of sweat trickling down my neck.

From the hallway, Mr. Brunner spoke. Nothing," he murmured. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Mine neither," Grover said. "But I could have sworn ..."

The edges of my vision fuzzed over with black and the conversation was muffled. My body slipped from the dream into a deep and silent slumber.

* * *

I stood outside the Latin exam hall, waiting for Percy to join me for some mindless vandalism. (I'm joking mom please don't ground me)

I mindlessly braided sections of my hair while I waited and upbraided it before repeating the process. My mind drifted to the previous night's dream. I hadn't had the chance to confide in him the weird dream-copy of himself that I had taken the form of in the dream. It would have been a funny story, except with what had happened with Mrs. Dodds had put me on edge. If he could just hurry up and finish, I could talk to the one person sharing in my hallucination.

Percy stalked out of the room and brushed past me, storming down the hallway. I shot up and raced after him, all thoughts of my dream erased. I took in his uneven breath and teary eyes. I tugged at his hand, begging him to talk to me.

"What happened?" I asked, voice soft.

Percy rubbed his eyes angrily "Mr. Brunner," was all he said. I nodded in understanding. While I didn't know the details, I could gather enough from the context and our history with teachers. No matter how much they would claim to like us, there was _always _the breaking point. Either one of us would fail something one too many times, or they would finally admit they saw us as a lost cause. Mr. Brunner's warm brown eyes swam in my head, words of past teacher's claims spilling from his mouth._ It's best for you to leave. You aren't normal. You're a lost cause. You're not good enough. __You're not smart enough. __You're not trying enough. __You're__ lazy. You don't care._

I pulled Percy in for a hug in the middle of the hallway. Students skirted around us. Some made moves to tease us but quickly changed thoughts when I glared at them. To many people, it probably seemed like two siblings hugging while one broke down due to the stress of finals. If only that had been the truth.

"C' mon dork, let's go somewhere private."

* * *

"Sweet Jesus, finally the end of the Jacksons' adventures at Yancy is here," I joked to Piper as I stuffed my clothes into my suitcase. She chuckled softly. She fell onto _my _bed and stared up at me.

"Can we keep in touch?" She tilted her head at me, puppy face activated. "Ple_ase_?" She had a way with her voice. She had just said it so simply and now I felt as if I would die if I didn't keep contact with the younger girl.

"I don't have a phone," I pointed out. "Or an email, and trust me, you don't want letters from me." I sat down beside the dark-haired girl, pulling my knees up to my chest. My mind raced with ideas of how to stay in contact. Piper _was a_ true friend and these last couple of months had revealed how lucky I was to have her as a roommate.

She sniffled beside me. Suddenly, her arms were around me and her head was buried in my shoulder. "I don't want you to go!" She squeezed me tighter, "You're the only person here that doesn't treat me differently because of my dad!"

"I'm sure either Mr. Brunner or Grover wouldn't treat you differently," I tried.

She pouted, "Why do we have to have different lunch periods?"

"Why couldn't you have taken Latin?" She smacked me on the arm.

"I'll miss you, for realzies," she said. My face sobered up quickly.

"For realizes? _That_ serious?" I asked in a lilting tone, letting my natural accent slip through.

Glaring at me, she told me to shut up. I held up my hands in surrender. She stood and unburied her second suitcase from the small mountain of luggage.

Piper unzipped her already neatly packed suitcase and rummaged through it, pulling something out. Standing straight once more, she hugged a dark bundle close to her chest.

Suddenly shy once more, Piper tucked a long piece of hair behind her ear. Extending her arm to me she placed the bundle, now clearly a sweater of some kind, into my hands. The soft emerald color reflected off of it vibrantly. I ran a hand over it, guessing what it was but not believing.

"You were always going on about how much you like mine so I-"

I shot up, wrapping my arms around her tightly, attempting to express my gratitude in the gesture. It wasn't just that she'd gotten me a presumably expensive sweater. It was the fact that she remembered something I had said offhandedly _months _ago.

The abundance of sentimental changes occurring crashed down on the two preteen girls. And so on the last night at Yancy, the girls of room 432 fell asleep in each other embrace, tear tracks present on their faces.

* * *

The next day I sat on the stifling hot Greyhound to Manhattan, silently suffering in between my best friends. I had not at all looked forward to wishing Grover goodbye, but it turned out unnecessary. He was on the same bus, to the same city, for a likely completely different reason than us.

Regret was beginning to seep into my bones, however. Grover's anxious behavior was setting me on edge, and I- for the life of me- could not figure out _what _exactly had him so nervous. The thought that he was worried about being teased crossed my mind. Glancing up and down the aisle, I had a hard time imagining any of the riders making fun of him.

Percy, on the other hand, looked ready to smack Grover. Not a very reasonable action, but it was clear his anxiety was fraying at my brother's already frayed nerves. His sea-green eyes watched Grover's every moment. Curiously, though I could not tell if it was serious or not, he asked, "Looking for Kindly Ones?"

Grover's entire attitude went from 0 to 100. "Wha-what do you mean?"

My lips pursed. _Kindly Ones. Where have I heard that before? _As Percy described what had happened the night before the exam, dread grew in the pit of my stomach. _It's too accurate to the details for it to just be some freaky ' twin intuition_' _thing. _I considered telling them, but seeing as I could've just repeated what Percy said, decided against it.

Smoothing down the yellow fabric of my dress I drew in deep breaths. If either boy noticed they said nothing, perhaps too enthralled in Percy's regaling of the night to notice the slightly panicking twelve-year-old sat between them. I squeezed my eyes shut. _Don't think about it. __Don't think about it. __Don't think about it._

The problem with the dreams wasn't the possibility that I was dreaming through my twin's eyes, it was that the weird dreams had also signified the beginning of the chasm dreams. For almost an entire month, every night I would dream of a chasm. It's opening a hungry mouth desperate to feed on its next meal. The darkness would enclose on me and then the true horror began.

The chilling, hair raising, nails on chalkboard voice would talk. Some nights it was directed to me. Others, another presence commanded the Voice's attention. It would urge her to do _things. _The place had enough of an impression on me that I was almost scared to sleep at times. But things like Grover rambling next to me kept me seated on the bus and not in the darkness with the Voice. His explanations of _why _he'd been meeting with Mr. Brunner were so bad they were funny.

I snorted, "Grover, you're a really bad liar."

His ears blushed pink as Percy nodded in agreement. Seemingly in resignation, he fished out two business cards.

"Just take these, okay? In case you guys need me this summer."

The font itself made me want to gouge my eyes out but I eventually made it out.

Grover Underwood

Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island, New York

(800)009-0009

Percy voiced my question, "What's Half-"

"Don't say it aloud!" Grover yelped. "That's my, um ... summer address."

It hadn't even crossed my mind that Grover could be like the rest of the kids at Yancy. Percy seemed to not have considered it either.

"So, if we want to come to visit your mansion.'

I half-heartedly glared at him, "Thank you for offering, Grover."

"So... If you need me," he nodded.

"Why would we need you?"

My half-glare morphed into a full-on stare down. Percy winced.

"Look, it's my job to protect you two."

I barely held back my snort. The entire time I'd known him, I had picked fights with bullies to keep their attention off of Grover. By saying that, it sounded like _he_ was the one defending us.

"Grover," Percy asked, "what exactly are you protecting us from?"

On cue, black smoke billowed out of the front as the bus screeched to a stop. Cursing, the bus driver pulled over to the side of the highway. Grumbling, the passengers exited the bus.

Standing on the side of the road was a cherry and apple stand, retro style. Just looking at it made my mouth water. Containers of cider sat in the afternoon heat, condensation on the outside showing the coolness of the liquid. There were no customers, just three grandma looking types knitting two massive socks with the middle one holding the yarn.

No joke, the socks were individually as big as my dress. But the two outside grandmas were knitting away. Or was it crochet? Crocheting is cool, a good life skill. I wish I had a grandma to teach me how to crochet, but ours died in a plane crash. I've never been on a plane before- is mom scared of flying? That's probably it. Yeah, just like she's scared of me getting kidnapped whenever I go out to walk a neighbor's dog. Percy always says that they would give me back- ANYWAY, I cut off my rambling thoughts.

Part of my heart pained for the poor women. They were sitting out here in the New York heat, _knittin_g, and trying to sell a product with no costumers. Glancing both ways and seeing that no one was coming, I dashed across the four-lane freeway. I came to a slow jog as I approached the three.

As I drew closer I barely refrained from gasping. They looked old but they were _ancient_. Like one cough away from death old. Not the "I have a few wrinkles and grey hair" old. My mind still couldn't wrap around the fact that they were knitting (/crocheting?- NOPE we're not getting into that again)

But Sally Jackson didn't raise a rude daughter (that depended on who you asked of course). Painting on a smile, I walked right up to them.

"Hi, how are you three lovely ladies today?" In unison, the three turned to look at me. _Cue Kill Bill sirens. _The middle one opened her mouth first.

"Are you prepared?" Now, I had been expecting a feebly hard to hear voice with a hint of raspy-ness. I had _not _been expecting a hard solid response. Or _tha_t response either.

My confusion must have shown on my face because the one closest to me waved the other off.

"Would you like any fruit. It's straight from the finest trees of Olympus." She set down her knitting needles and handed me a bag, "Choose carefully." And I kid you not when this old grandma looked into my eyes I felt as if she had seen my whole life and had been left vaguely disappointed.

I flashed another smile, "I would _love _to. These are granny smith, right? They're the only kind my brother likes- he's over there," I waved at Percy who was still across the freeway. For some reason, Grover looked ready to faint as his blood had drained from his pasty face. I shrugged it off and waved with more enthusiasm to get Percy to wave back. He hesitantly raised his hand in a half-wave.

"Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos", the middle one introduced, pointing at the woman whose name she was saying. My eyebrows went up, I'd heard those names before somewhere-

"Andy," I replied. They nodded in unison again. It was honestly freaking me out a bit but I wasn't going to say anything. "So can I just pick out whatever or?"

The farthest one nodded and repeated, "Choose wisely." They returned to their knotting and I squinted in confusion. They weren't going to watch to make sure I didn't steal? Do I look like a good kid? Because if so I need to get on that stat.

I shrugged and began turning over the apples in my hand. I really hoped these were granny smith apples. I plucked a solid wight from the top, checking them for bad spots. True to their word, these did seem like the finest from whatever orchard they were from. Satisfied with my purpose I walked over to the grandmas.

Holding up my bag of treats I asked, "How much for a bag?" The wind blew lightly, brushing my hair into my face. The trio of grandmas searched deep into my soul once more.

"No payment," they spoke in unison and it that _was starting to seriously freak me out, merda!_ I protested their call and dug out five dollars from my knapsack.

"I can't just take it! Here, I insist," I darted forward and stuck the bill into the yarn basket. I could practically _hear_ Grover's strangled shout above four lanes of light traffic. They eyed me curiously.

"You are destined for great things, Andromeda." I blinked, _how did they- _nevermind. I grinned and bowed my head in thanks. I looked at the bag of apples and my knapsack. I was _not_ putting them together.

Eyeing the highway I looked both ways (shoutout to mom) before dashing across the highway again. I narrowly avoided a motorcycle and almost ran into the bus driver. I bounced over to my brother and the still close to passing out Grover. Victoriously I held up my bag of premium apples that I had probably overpaid for.

Percy squinted at the bag, "You got granny smith, right?"

I rolled my eyes, "Who do you think I am?"

Grover breathed out, " A very idiotic and impulsive person." I gasped dramatically, clutching my hand to my chest.

"_Me? _Idiotic and impulsive?"

Grover glared at me, completely serious, "Do you know what you've done? No, of course, you don't-"

"Dude chill. She just bought some apples."

"Yeah, the old ladies were pretty nice too," if I ignored the talking in unison thing. To prove my point and waved at them. Seemingly hesitantly, they waved back, _still_ in unison. I heard Grover choke out, "_old ladies?" _behind me. But I didn't turn to him, entranced by the new tool drawn from a knitting bag.

The middle one had drawn out an unnecessarily large shear-style pair of gold and silver scissors. Grover's breath caught in his throat.

"We're getting on the bus," he tugged my arm but I couldn't break my gaze from their eyes who somehow met mine across the traffic. "Come_ on_!" He urged.

I heard the two bicker but didn't contribute any thoughts, their words melting into the air and adding only to the heat. I could feel sweat trickle down my neck and I could only hope that my hair was still neatly placed in a bun and my mascara wasn't running.

My mind went back to the old grandmas. They were still watching me, but it felt like their gaze was also on Percy. The middle one cut the yarn and I could hear the resounding _snip_ from my position. I sucked in a breath, finding Percy's hand without looking away as a feeling of dread settled in my stomach.

The bus's engine roared to life. I climbed back on board with Grover and Percy, subconsciously letting myself be led back to our seats. As I sank back into the sweaty seat I dropped the bag of apples into my lap, feeling my throat close up with nausea.

I could at least take comfort in the fact that neither of my companions looked much better. I had yet to let go of Percy's hand, not that I planned to.

Percy was the first to speak, "Grover, what are you not telling us?" I was glad he was the one to ask. I'd just wanted some apples and instead felt like I'd witnessed a death sentence.

Grover twisted his shirttail and turned to face me instead, "Andy, what did you see at the fruit stand?"

"Three old women knitting?"

"And then?" Grover prompted.

"They cut the yarn for the socks?"

He made a crossing gesture but not. It seemed _older_. I realized that I didn't even know if he practiced anything. Wow, bad friend alert.

"You saw her snip the cord."

Percy frowned next to me, "Yeah, we did? So?" We both knew that it was big. We just didn't know _what._

"This is not happening," Grover said. "I don't want it to end the same as last time."

I stared at Percy, glad to see the same look of confusion donning his face.

I shrank back into my seat. Why did she feel so sick? I closed my eyes and leaned my head onto my brother's shoulder. It would be a good idea to try to get some sleep before we got home.

I welcomed the silence that had fallen over the three of us, not caring as I missed on the developmental dialogue in the story of my life.


End file.
